


Laid Bare

by Dystopian_Dramaqueen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: (Warriors get to fuck other warriors with the helmet off), Angst with a Happy Ending, Cara saves him, Consensual Sex, Consistent with Cannon until S1E4, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Helmet off, Mando gets hurt, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, then they fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22902034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dystopian_Dramaqueen/pseuds/Dystopian_Dramaqueen
Summary: An alternate ending for S1E4 of The Mandalorian.Cara and Din teach the farmers on Sorgan to defend themselves from raiders. But under cover of darkness, the fledgling rebels injure their greatest ally.**Ch 3 is new**
Relationships: Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

Din and Cara catch their breath, becoming aware of the cold water swirling under their armor. The smell of muck, krill and burning fuel is thick in the air. 

_It’s over. We did it._

Nighttime animals and insects resume a soft pulsatile chorus in the forest around them. The villagers talk excitedly, congratulating themselves. The battle’s over. They won. 

Then a harsh scream cuts through the night. 

Cara’s blood runs cold. Her muscles tense, heart racing back to survival mode.

She and Din share a worried glance, chests still heaving from the battle. They stand slowly in the fishing pond, peering over the grassy knoll. 

Some raiders have dug-in near the woodline. A crowd of farmers has gathered, armed only with their pointed spears. One brave farmer runs toward the woodline, but he’s gunned down instantly, his body jerking as its riddled with bullets. When the firing stops, his body falls to the ground. Women run to his fallen body, wailing in anguish. 

Cara looks at Din, wishing she could see any hint of expression, any clue to his intentions. 

When he finally speaks, Din’s voice is calm through the modulator. “Cover me.”

Cara nods, readying the pulse rifle on the knoll. She watches as Din trots silently toward the woods, making a wide lap around the field. _He’s gonna flank them. Just a waiting game now._

Cara steadies her breath, watching the woodline. The scene is quiet aside from the loud mournful crying of the villagers. Lit by the flickering glow of the smoldering imperial walker. Like a primal bonfire of twisted metal. 

A few minutes later, there’s a struggle in the forest. Grunting. Shouting. Blaster shots. 

Cara blows out a slow steadying breath, closing her right eye and sighting the pulse rifle. She scans the trees, unable to find a clear target. “Shit” she mutters under her breath. 

More screams split the night. Cara opens her eyes and sees a crowd of farmers running at the woodline, spears out. 

Cara pushes herself out of the pond. “No!” she shouts. “WAIT!” 

Cara sprints to the woods, straight across the field without a thought for her own safety. She’s several hundred feet away as the villagers disappear into the trees. She hears agonized groans echoing through the night.

She stops once she’s safe among the trees. _It’s too quiet._ _Din’s is hurt or he’d have found me by now._ She tries to quiet her rapid breathing. Listening. Hearing nothing. Just silence. _Where the fuck are you._ She walks quickly, scanning the forest floor until she sees him. His Beskar armor reflecting the moonlight like a mirror. 

_Still. He's way too still._

She kneels beside him. 

The villagers gather around her in a circle, falling silent when they realize what they’ve done. 

She reaches a hand under fabric at Din's neck, under the angle of his jaw, relieved to feel a weak rapid pulse. But her fingers are wet. Sticky. She withdraws them to see dark liquid staining her fingers in the moonlight. 

“STOP STARING!” she shouts over her shoulder. “GET A MEDIC!!” She slides an arm under Din’s neck, instantly feeling the same warm liquid seeping over her arm. _Too much blood_. 

Cara shifts, pulling him closer, lifting his head and shoulders. “Mando. Talk to me.”

Din shakes his head weakly. 

She swallows thickly, her face etched with concern. 

A villager arrives with a medipack. Cara rests Din’s head in her lap as she zips it open and pulls out the meager contents. A laser cautery unit. Some morphine. An all purpose antibiotic. _Shit. This isn’t enough._

“I need to see your wound, ok?” she says, reaching for his helmet. 

Her hand is frozen, locked in his grip. 

His chest is heaving with exertion. “No.”

“Don’t be stubborn. This isn’t how you die. Pointed stick to the neck, is that your story?”

He’s still, breaths slowing again. Cara’s brow relaxes as she realizes what the problem is. “Back to your huts, NOW.” She barks over her shoulder. The villagers jump at the commanding tone, scampering to obey. 

Moments later, Din and Cara are alone in the clearing. The forest insects and animals resume their chorus around them. 

The tension has gone out of Din’s muscles. He isn’t fighting her anymore. She can’t be sure, but from the angle of his visor and the moonlight, she can almost feel his eyes on hers. 

Cara gingerly places a hand on either side of his helmet. She pauses, looking at the dark glass of his visor. Giving him time to stop her again. But he doesn’t. He gives the slightest of nods. Cara nods back. “I won’t ...look at you.” She mutters, inching the metal off his head slowly. Just enough to find the deep, angry gash on his neck, pulsing out dark sticky blood with each heartbeat. She leans her palm against the wound.

Din goes limp in her arms, losing consciousness. 

Cara works quickly, cauterizing the wound and giving him the antibiotic and pain shots. He drifts off quickly, head falling to the side in her lap, his neck and chin exposed to the cool evening air.

That small patch of skin seems almost pornographic, laid bare as it is in the darkness. Cara wants to see more. To see him. She knows this will likely be her only chance to see this man who has become her friend and partner. She wants to ease his helmet the rest of the way off. No one would know.

But she doesn't. It would be wrong. A violation.

But she doesn't avert her eyes. She studies the parts she can see, soaking in every stolen detail. His stubble is silver, like his armor. She wonders if he's older, or if his lifestyle has aged him prematurely. His hair is longer than she would have expected, the reddish curls wet and matted to the back of his neck. His skin, olive and smooth. She traces her thumb across his lips, so soft, warm like his breath against her skin.

Something changes, seeing him like this. Soft and vulnerable in her arms.

She stays there, holding him until the dawn. 


	2. Chapter 2

3 days later, Cara’s sitting on the porch of the guest-hut, dangling her legs off the edge. She sips Spatchka, watching the village children play. _Mando’s kid fits right in. They love him._

Her eyes are drawn across the field to flashes of light. It’s the Mandalorian, returning from town, his full battle armor gleaming in the sun. She smiles, glad to see him. They hadn’t spoken since the night of the battle. She’s looking forward to recounting her heroics and hearing what happened in the woods. His side of the battle, the part she couldn’t see.

But when Din gets to the hut, he climbs briskly up the stairs, passing her without a word. 

The smile falls from Cara’s face. She blinks, not knowing what she expected. _A hello, maybe. Not too much to ask after saving someone’s life._

She sets her cup down, standing stiffly and following him into the hut. The space is dark except for sunlight trickling through the woven thatch walls. It takes her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. 

Din is sitting motionless on his cot at the back of the hut. He’s staring at the floor, lost somewhere in his mind. He doesn’t even acknowledge her presence. 

Cara watches him for a long moment. _He needs space._ She turns to leave.

“Wait.” 

Cara stops, turning on her heel. Nothing has has changed. He hasn’t moved. She wonders if she imagined the whispered request. 

She walks to the cot and sits down next to Din. “You ok?” 

He shakes his head. It’s subtle but she’s sure she saw it. “What is it?” She says quietly, taking his gloved hand in hers. “Do you need the medic? More morphine? That was a nasty gash…”

Din shakes his head again, more definitively this time. 

Cara waits, holding space for him. 

“Thank you.” He murmurs. “For...”

Cara nods, cutting him off. “It’s nothing. You’d have done the same for me.” 

Din nods. “I was ready” He continues absently.

Cara’s brow cinches together. “To die?”

Din shakes his head. 

“What then?”

“I wanted you to … take it off.”

Cara’s stomach twists when she realizes what he’s talking about. _His helmet._ She’s overwhelmed by the thought of this warrior, bleeding out in the moonlight, his head cradled in her lap, silently praying she would remove his helm before he died. So he wouldn’t have to die alone. 

“My mother was the last person to look at me like that. Like you did. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be seen.”

Cara stares back silently, biting her tongue. She’s full of questions. Mandalorian culture is a closely guarded secret. She chides herself for probing, but can’t stop the words. 

“Have you not...taken a lover?” 

Din looks up at her and scoffs. Cara shrugs, letting the question stand. 

“Twice. Years ago. Helmet stayed on.”

Cara’s brow cinches as she tries to imagine… how that would even work. 

A soft sound comes from Din’s modulator as he watches her. A laugh, maybe. 

“So you just...take care of your own needs then?”

“Do you?” He fires back, his helmet angled to the side in curiosity. 

Cara smirks, thinking about her conquests- one night stands, mostly. Brief encounters with friends and crewmates to break the monotony of months on the ship. Women, men, a long list of faceless bodies. They meant little and required nothing from her. She never let herself get close. And yes, she gave herself any pleasure she needed. 

“I’m no virgin. Crewmates mostly.” She says, unashamed of her experience. “Nothing serious.”

Din nods. “It is the same with Mandalorians. Warriors share the flesh.” He continues. “Rushed moments. Never more. Except for families. But there are no families left after the great Purge. We are too few.”

They fall silent. 

_Do you still want me to see you?_ Cara wonders. _Is that what you want? To be seen?_

As if he hears her, Din is staring back, finally. His invisible gaze intense.

She almost asks. But she can’t. It’s too intimate. She blinks the question away, releasing his hand and clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Get some rest. They’re throwing us a party tonight. Big heroes and all that.”

Din holds her gaze. After a long moment he nods. 

Cara turns, leaving him to his solitude. 


	3. Chapter 3

The celebration feast is extravagant. The villagers prepare roasted meats, elaborate pastries and other foods usually reserved for their Harvest Moon Festival. 

Omara delivers Din’s food and drink to the guest hut so he can eat in private. The rest of the village sits down together at a long table outside, toasting and cheering. Din pulls a sheer curtain over the window before removing his helm and eating in silence. It pains him to put it back on when he’s done. _The symbol of his isolation._

When he emerges from the hut, the villagers rise from their table and crowd around him, waiting their turn to shake his hand and hug him, lavishing him with affection and praise.

A large bonfire is lit as evening falls. The villagers dance in the flickering light and invite Din and Cara to join them. Din declines and Cara stays behind with him. She watches her friend, worrying about him. Normally after a few drinks he’d be bantering with her, but he remains stiff and guarded, not letting himself relax at all.

The older villagers take their seats one by one, exhausted. The music changes, and only young couples remain, laughing and dancing around the bonfire. When one particularly vigorous dance ends, several of the couples embrace and kiss each other like no one’s watching. The rest of the village cheers them on. Cara smiles, turning to catch Din’s reaction to the young lovers. He’s unreadable as always, his black visor reflecting the light from the bonfire. Then without warning he stands and walks off toward their lodging.

Cara sets down her drink and follows after him. Inside the hut, she finds him packing his things. 

She looks on quizzically. “...what are you doing?”

Din pauses, just for a second, before stuffing clothes into his bag. “Leaving.”

“What?” Cara feels like she’s been kicked in the chest. 

“The kid will be safe here.” 

Cara hears his unspoken words. _The kid deserves a family. Something I’ll never be able to provide. I don’t belong here._

“This could be your home too.” She says quietly. “They need a guardian.” 

Din doesn’t respond. 

Cara’s brow cinches together. “Where would you even go?”

“To the next job.”

Cara grabs his shoulder, turning him roughly, forcing him to look at her. “That’s not a life and you know it.”

He shrugs out of her grip and returns to packing. 

“Stop pretending to be a robot, Mando. You’re lonely. You can’t keep running like this forever.”

Din scoffs and shakes his head. 

“You deserve to live. Really live. You can’t just hide and work yourself to death.”

Din has stopped moving. His fists are clenched at his sides, vibrating with intensity. From the position of his helmet she can tell his eyes are clenched shut along with his jaw. “I am bound by the Creed…”

“To be alone forever?” She interjects. “Was that actually in the vows? Or is that your own personal choice?”

“You should have LEFT ME!” He barks back, staring back at her. 

Tears sting Cara’s eyes. “You would have died…”

“I was ready” He says coldly, turning back to his preparations. “I would finally have been free.”

Cara shakes her head. _This is all wrong. Everything I say makes it worse._ She watches helplessly, her mind screaming at her to do something, anything to stop him. _He’s not right. He can’t leave now._

Cara turns and walks quickly to her cot. With a grunt, she lifts the bed frame, pulling it in front of the exit. 

Din throws his hands up. “What are you doing?” 

“You’re not leaving tonight.” She says, dusting her hands off on her pants.

He tilts his head. _“You_ gonna stop me?”

“Kicked your ass last time, didn’t I?”

“Damnit Cara.” Din sighs, running his hands over his helmet. “Just let me go.”

Cara shakes her head definitively. “It’s late. Get ready for bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Din stares at her- blocking the exit, arms folded over her chest. He glances down at the bag filled with his meager possessions. He sighs, giving up on his plan for a hasty escape, shaking his head. “Fine.” He tosses the bag under the bed. He turns to the wall and begins unhooking his armor. Removing his pauldrons, chest plate, thigh and shin guards, until he’s down to his cloth undershirt, trousers and helmet. He sits, untying his boots, sliding them under the bed too.

Cara watches him undressing briefly and turns to do the same, taking off her fingerless gloves, tossing them on her cot. She releases the breath she’d been holding. Relieved that he’d backed down. 

She strips her shirt off unceremoniously, tossing it aside. She’s always slept naked, especially in climates as warm as this. She moves to unfasten her pants, freezing when she senses _something_. The tiny hairs on her arms have stood up at full attention, and her heartbeat has quickened. Cara blinks, already knowing what she’ll see when she looks over her shoulder. She blows out a slow breath before doing just that. 

Sure enough, Din is watching her undress from across the room. His stone faced helm betrays nothing, but his chest is rising and falling quicker than she’d ever seen, even after the battle. 

“You’re staring.” She says softly, a tiny smile forming at the corner of her mouth. Not embarrassed by her nakedness, but by the intensity of his stare.

Din shakes his head, caught red handed. “Sorry” he mumbles, quickly averting his gaze. 

He stands, turning to the wall to remove his shirt. When he pulls the fabric off over his head, Cara is surprised to see ornate tattoos covering his body. Thick, tribal symbols and runes in his native language. Fascinated, she crosses the room to get a closer look. She stops just behind him. Din’s eyes squeeze shut when he realizes how close she is. 

Cara reaches out, touching the tattoos on his back gently. Din’s breath catches as her fingertips glide across his skin. Cara traces the lines, not noticing the goosebumps her touch leaves in its wake. 

Din turns around slowly to face her, letting her explore his chest as well. 

“These are incredible” she murmurs, still transfixed, fingers wandering aimlessly over his chest.

Din brushes his thumb over the stripes on her arm. “We also decorate our warriors.”

“No but yours are ... _beautiful_.”

His voice is soft when he finally replies- little more than a whisper. “Not nearly as beautiful as you.” 

Cara freezes, her eyes flicking up to his visor. 

Din holds her gaze. 

Cara feels her cheeks flushing. She’s not sure if the heat is coming from his body or hers, but it’s intense. Dizzying. Like a fever. She hadn't felt hot by the fire, or after 3 mugs of Spatchka. But one compliment from this man and she’s blushing like a schoolgirl.

She understands in that moment- how he could fuck with the the helmet on. It’s no more impersonal than fucking drunk strangers in the dark. _If it has to stay on, then so be it._

Her fingers move again, this time mapping the lines of his chest. His collar bone, his pecs, his abs. A body hardened by battle.

Cara’s nipples are rock hard, her skin aches for his touch, but Din remains motionless. His restraint only worsens her desire. She realizes that he’s waiting for explicit consent, that she needs to _show him_ how she wants to be touched. She takes Din’s hand in hers, placing it on her chest. His breath shudders as he squeezes gently, caressing the soft edge of her breast, which is heaving now, her breaths coming as hard as his. His touch is reverent, as if he was touching something sacred. 

Din tucks her hair behind her ear and caresses her cheek. He swallows thickly, running the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. 

Cara’s legs feel weak with the heaviness growing between them. As if all of her blood had abandoned her at once. She's swollen and wet for him, aching for his attention. But even more urgently, she needs to kiss him. Taste his lips. She’s never wanted anything so badly. 

And just at that moment, as if in response to an identical need, Din takes her hands in his. 

He guides them up to his helmet, placing her palms on his cheeks. 

Cara strokes the cold metal with her thumbs. And then, suddenly, understanding washes over her. _Warriors share the flesh. He wants me to take it off. It won’t break the rules because of what we’ve been through. It’s part of the Creed. It’s allowed because of who we are._

She looks at him, brows cinching together in a question. _Are you sure?_

Din nods, as he had in the moonlight. 

Cara swallows thickly and lifts, freeing him from the metal casing. Her breath catches as his full face comes into view. He’s fucking gorgeous. Young, with perfect skin. His eyes are dark brown with flecks of green and gold, watching her study him. 

She reaches out and touches his lips, which are impossibly soft. Din sucks in a breath, his brows cinching together, like even that small touch is overstimulating. He leans closer, his mouth just inches from hers now. Breath warm and sweet, mixing with hers. They move at the same time, into an urgent kiss. Din cradles her to him, wrapping one arm around the arch of her back, and holding the back of her head tenderly. Cara holds his face in her hands. She can feel him, hard for her already, straining and erect against her leg.

Din breaks away, pressing his forehead to hers, overwhelmed and trying to catching his breath. 

“Don’t stop.” She gasps. 

Din growls, grabbing the soft flesh of her backside and squeezing, moaning at the feel of her thick ass in his hands. He hooks his hands under her thighs, hiking her legs up around his waist and walking her quickly to the bed. He lays her down, marveling at the beauty of her long black hair splayed out on his pillow.

He climbs on top of her, kissing Cara desperately, unable to stop soft groans every time she touches his face. His kisses begin to wander down her neck and chest. He worships her breasts with his hands and mouth before moving lower. 

Din grabs her legs and hauls her to the foot of the bed, pulling her pants and underclothes off. He kneels on the floor between her legs.

Cara props up on her elbows in a panic. “...what are you doing?”

He ignores her, scooting her hips even closer and draping her knees over his shoulders. His breath is warm as he kisses her thighs ravenously. 

Cara squirms, embarrassed, but her protests are silenced as his kisses move to her center. His lips are soft and gentle. She’d never felt anything so good...so warm… so perfect as his mouth _there._ Din probes deeper, exploring her body with his tongue. Cara’s head arches back into the pillow, the breath knocked from her lungs by a wave of unimaginable pleasure. She’s lost in it, eyes clenched shut, moaning and gripping the sheets for dear life. Her hips continue to squirm but Din braces them, holding her in position against his mouth. She writhes under his tongue, no longer fighting him, but tightening her thighs around his head, pulling him closer. She makes the mistake of looking at him. It’s a mistake because he’s watching her, eyes smoldering with desire. She can tell this act is as erotic for him as it is for her, and she can’t stop her climax from splitting her apart. She grabs his forearm, head pushing back hard into the bed as her eyes roll back, nails digging into his flesh as she comes hard.

Din stays with her through her orgasm, licking and kissing her to extend it. Feeling himself grow even harder to see how wet she’d gotten. He laps up her cum hungrily, moaning at the intoxicating taste of her. He knows he’ll grow hard at this memory for the rest of his life. 

Her muscles relax, her eyes glaze over, like she’s drugged. When her tremors finally cease, he kisses her thigh- showing no intention of changing positions. Perfectly happy to continue pleasuring her like this for the rest of the evening. But Cara has other ideas. She takes charge, pulling him up on top of her. She kisses him frantically, moaning into his mouth, still salty with her cum. 

She’d never felt like this before. Unhinged. Desperate. She’d never _needed_ someone, never craved or begged before. But she _needs_ him. She needs his cock inside her. She grinds her hips against the bulge in his pants. Compared to his tongue, the fabric is unbearably rough against her most sensitive skin. She can’t stand this torture a second longer. She shoves his pants down off his hips, pushing them down further with her feet until Din kicks them the rest of the way off. His cock springs free, warm against her leg. Long and thick. His body is heavy. She can’t get him inside her yet, but she shifts under him, so that each pulse of her hips drags the base of his cock through her soaked folds. 

Din slams his hand into the bed, eyes clenching shut, trying to control his breathing. The feeling of her, slick and ready for him, is almost enough to make him come then and there. But he wants to please her, so he waits. Clearing his mind, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood, as Cara continues to ride him, grinding her clit against his cock. 

He can feel that she’s getting close again. Soft and pliant and needy for him. Her hips are stuttering, her hands pull his ass toward her, and she’s babbling nonsense into his mouth. _She needs it. Fuck, she wants me so badly._ He shoves her back onto the bed, taking control. He pushes her legs apart, taking himself in hand and lining up at her entrance, dragging his leaking tip through her folds. 

He finds Cara’s eyes. She’s a beautiful mess, staring at him with needy eyes, her lips swollen and parted in anticipation. She nods at him, and he needs no more permission. He pushes into her, open mouth against hers as he thrusts, entering her inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed in her heat. 

His cock is thick and long, filling her completely. Din stills his hips to let her adjust to his girth, but Cara hooks a heel over his thigh, pulling him closer, rocking her hips, fucking herself on his cock. Din groans, moving too, and after a few moments they find a rhythm together. Him leading with long deep thrusts and her pressing up into each one. She moves her hands to his ass, kneading the firm muscle. 

They open their eyes at the same time. They make love like this, holding each other’s gaze. Cara’s whimpering again, soft needy sounds that make Din insane with lust. 

“Come on.” Cara whispers against his lips. “Take me.”

Din hikes a leg up, obliging her. He pushes deeper yet, each stroke now hitting her at just the right angle.

_Yes._ Her hands fly to his back. _More_ . _Please_. She hopes she isn’t begging out loud, but she can’t stop it either way. She must be because he growls, a feral sound humming deep in his chest. His pace quickens as some primal instinct takes over. She widens her legs for him, pressing up into his thrusts, taking him perfectly.

He lays close to her, his breath warm in her ear, kissing her neck softly. He’s moaning. Low and urgent, like a warning. He’s pressing his cheek hard against hers as he sets a brutal pace. She knows she’ll be feeling him for days. 

Cara stiffens, her breaths growing shallow and quick. Her nails dig into his back, cutting his skin and causing him to hiss in a sharp breath. 

Her inner walls clench around him. Din’s brows cinch together, his mouth dropping open as a wave of shattering pleasure lifts them both. He keeps his eyes locked on hers, watching helplessly as she comes apart underneath him, crying his name. His face betrays his own agonized bliss, eyes closing suddenly as the breath is knocked from his chest. He buries his face in her shoulder and it takes every ounce of strength to not cry out as he comes. Tears sting his eyes as he swallows his sobs, grunting, panting. Fisting the sheets, trembling with the effort of holding himself together.

When he blinks his eyes open, Cara is staring back at him. Her eyes are no longer dazed but clear, searching his. 

Then without warning, she pushes him off, silently gathering her clothes and pulling them on. Without a word, she moves her cot away from the door. She grabs her blanket and heads outside, sitting on the porch as she had earlier in the day. 

After a moment, a helmeted Din joins her outside.

“What’s wrong?”

Cara shakes her head, wrapping a blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Nothing. I’ve just...never…”

Din sits down next to her, listening. Worried. 

“I’ve been with alot of people. But I have never done THAT before. It’s never been like THAT with anyone before tonight. I don’t even know what that was. It was really intense.”

Din’s nodding. He’d left his gloves off. He takes her hand in his, and the touch of his skin against hers floods her with instant relief. As if her body was incomplete without him now. As if they were bonded. She stares down at their hands, in awe of the energy now flowing freely between them. She shakes her head. 

“What happens now?”

Din shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

He wraps his arm around her, pulling her close to him. Needing her as much as she needs him. He closes his eyes, leaning into her, feeling warmth and peace wash over him. It’s good for Cara too. She can feel his body heat through his shirt, and it’s comforting. She tries to relax into the flood of feelings they’d released. Not knowing what to make of it. She closes her eyes, pulling a deep breath. Deciding not to overthink it. 

_So be it._


End file.
